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Rating: More than a thousand years ago, when Southern Europe was feeling the aftershocks of the now-defunct Roman Empire and Christianity had already taken a firm hold on the people of that time, the "civilized" world began to know the whirlwind and ferocity of barbarian warriors who tumbled in endless hordes from the cold, mysterious (because not yet well known), and distant territories of the North.
They were ruthless warriors with no hindrance other than their resourcefulness to guide them: they arrived suddenly, often by sea, on those picturesque and fast ships of theirs, landed in some cove, and began to loot and pillage everything there was to plunder around. Monasteries, villages, castles, towns. They left behind nothing but ruins and fires. They wore attire unknown for the time. They covered themselves in furs and wielded swords and axes with exquisite silver inlays, rode for days and days without ever tiring, and when they went into battle or more often to raid, they went with painted faces and uttered howls and yells that made one's skin crawl just hearing them. Rarely could the armies of those days withstand them. Everyone was scared to death of those men who fought bare-chested and smeared with the blood of their enemies, which often, after being slaughtered, were displayed on the spikes of their standards as trophies. They moved without a precise plan, guided by a proud and daring leader who must have known more than the devil since he had to be an excellent admiral for the ships, a great general on the battlefields, a good leader in the settlements they built, an impartial judge, and an infallible priest. All characteristics that alone should make these tough-skinned men extraordinary characters. People who, besides warring when there was war to be made, often set sail and hoisted anchor to go just about everywhere: along the Scandinavian countries above all, but also in Europe to find the necessary "living space," reaching, it is said, even South Africa and possibly, decades before Columbus, also a land they called "Vinland" which should more or less correspond to the northwestern coast of America.
A group of these bold and courageous Viking men, one day, guided by a local chieftain, Rurik, who gathered 501 of them around him, took, instead of the West, the direction of the East, and ventured through the wild steppes and plains of Central Europe, eventually colonizing vast lands swept by wind and snow, crossing the Ural Mountains, then descending to the coasts of the Black Sea and settling in the territories of the Byzantine Empire, which, very cleverly, taking advantage of the fact that these "Variaghi" (as their lineage was indeed called), besides being fearsome warriors, were also skilled merchants or in any case dedicated to profit above all else, hired them first as mercenaries and subsequently absorbed them into its fold. King Rurik, however, not content with the treatment given to his men, whom he considered nothing more than sellouts, retraced the path he had once taken, settled in a hospitable bend near a lake he remembered passing during his previous journey, and began organizing the life of his village, which soon became so populous, also due to the local genes reduced to vassalage, that it became a kingdom, later becoming the territory of today's Great Russia.
All these facts are history, which Turisas, a Finnish band dedicated to a blend of symphonic and pompous Power and aggressive Extreme Metal that contains the seeds of the most canonical Death/Black until it spills over into badass and well-executed Thrash hints, which has little to envy other colleagues in the same field, narrates in their concept album "The Varangian Way."
Thus, in this album, one can listen to excellent examples of well-played, well-executed, structurally robust, and powerful Viking metal accompanied by redundant and epic symphonic and baroque parts, which have brought much fortune to bands like Therion, just to give an example.
As for the tracks, we find ourselves comparing instrumental structures with few frills, exemplified by the absence of both prologues and monologues. Badass songs that will delight many, with catchy choruses that infuse adrenaline in every pore and which greatly indulge, for the more sensitive listeners, in the imaginative and epic flourishes.
Nowadays, in fact, listening to songs like "To Holmgard and Beyond," a true ranking hit (check it out to believe it), or "A Portage to Unkown," is indeed a refined pleasure, reaching the point where, after wearing them out, one feels the urge to take the rusty chainmail and the chiseled sword bought on the internet to go fight. Against whom, these days, it's inconceivable to imagine, much to the chagrin of the police who will chase you down and won't know what sedition it is.
It's true, there's nothing really new in this album, other than the talent of this band which, with just two albums, this and the previous "Battle Metal," is carving out a following that many envy, starting with similar colleagues who are taking years to make their mark.
Perhaps the key to understanding the great success that Turisas is having lies precisely in their ultimately simple approach to music, which goes against the pompousness and lack, possibly deliberate, of immediacy typical of score-based archetypes. In fact, the more the songs aim to be complex, the more they turn out to be catchy, leading to, in this case, a sound orgy as in a track like "In The Court of Jarisleif," where an electric and hysterical violin paints a gypsy and magical atmosphere, in a medieval setting that embeds itself effortlessly in your mind, without even needing to close your eyes to imagine it.
Perhaps this is a limitation. Perhaps all the mystery, the "black thread" leading certain genres of music, is shown here in broad daylight and may seem less fascinating than it is, yet I can assure you that, at times, it's still nice to be captivated by these things without having to resort to repeated listens of an album to recreate a personal synopsis. And if someone like me, who has Therion and Opeth holy cards prominently displayed on the nightstand at home, says so, I believe you can trust me.
So, just for once, let yourself be enchanted. Let yourself be guided on the journey that started from Finland, covered thousands of kilometers, crossed the Black Sea, and reached the court of Constantinople, at the gates of the civilized world, with that sense of conflict and war that, for example, Turisas want to express in a song like "Cursed Be Iron," or with the description of the hazards on the journey in "The Dnieper Rapids." Pure and simple desire to discover, to go, to fight, and to build history. And, beyond all the merits and demerits of this band, we should thank them for their undeniable intelligence.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 To Holmgard and Beyond (05:17)
Far beyond the sea and distant lands
Came men with thirty ships
Had wanted to reach the Neva by night
But the weather was not on their side
And as the wind grew stronger and stronger
The rain ran down our cheeks
The bow was turned towards Gardar
The sail flew up again
Holmgard and beyond
That's where the winds will us guide
For fame and for gold
Set sail for those lands unknown
Osmo and Dalk, Kyy, Kokko and Ulf
Were glad to be off the oars
Turo had eaten too much again
Now hanging himself overboard
The Tostensson twins were excited as always
Adventure was their game
Myself, Hakon the Bastard
was out to find my name
Holmgard and beyond
That's where the winds will us guide
For fame and for gold
Set sail for those lands unknown
Who is "I" without a past?
A river without a source?
An event without a cause?
Threads of different lengths
Some longer, some shorter
So many of them spun together
The crones keep on weaving
The algorithm of our lives
Cause and effect, the fates of men
We know the way to Aldeigju
Upstream the river Alode
You take us to the portage
And further (South)
Long is the way to the unknown
Long are the rivers in the East
Far lies the land that Ingvar
And his men desire to reach
Many dangers lie ahead
Some of us may never return
Rather sold as a slave to the Saracens
Than chained to your bed, chained by your life!
Holmgard and beyond
That's where the winds will us guide
For fame and for gold
Set sail for those lands unknown
02 A Portage to the Unknown (04:50)
We've sailed across the sea
Rowed for miles and miles upstream
Passed by Aldeigjuborg
Seen Lake Ilmen gleam
Ingvar took the lead
After Holmgard as agreed
What the end of Lovat meant
Was soon to be seen
Dripping with sweat a new day dawn on
The ropes cut flesh, as they've done in times foregone
I see my breath, my hands are going numb
Far from home we have come
An endless trail in front my eyes
A swift take off, had no time for goodbyes
What will we find and what was left behind
There's no return, get it off your mind
The water's changed to sand
Lakes and rivers turned to land
Plough up the rocky seas
Ride felled down trees
Foot by foot we edge
Once a ship, now a sledge
Six regular edges and six vertices
Six equilateral triangles
Six square faces in another direction
Plato's earth transparent
Give me all you have!
Pull as hard as you can
Plough up the rocky seas
Ride felled down trees
The water's changed to sand
Lakes and rivers turned to land
The rug has been pulled from under my feet
All my life made of lies and deceit
All I have left is a symbol on my chest
My only lead on my desperate quest
Branded at birth with the sign of Perun
East of the sun and West of the moon
The road now continues, Northwind be my guide
Wherever I'm going, the Gods are on my side
03 Cursed Be Iron (05:03)
Curse on thee, cruel iron Curses on the steel thou givest Curses on thee, tongue of evil Curses on thy life forever! Once thou wert of little value Having neither form nor beauty Neither strength noe great importance When in form of milk thou rested When for ages thou wert hidden In the breasts of God's three daughters Hidden in their heaving bosoms On the borders of the cloudlets In the blue vault of the heavens Thou wert once of little value Having neither form nor beauty Neither strength nor great importance When like water thou wert resting On the broad back of the marshes On the steep decline of the marshes On the steep declines of mountains When thou wert but formless matter Only dust of rusty color Curses on thee, cruel iron Curses on the steel thou givest Curses on thee, tongue of evil Cursed be thy life forever! Surely thou wert void of greatness Having neither strength nor beauty When the moose was trampling on thee When the roebuck trod on thee And the bear-paws scratched thy body Surely thou hadst little value When the skilful Ilmarinen First of all the iron-workers Brought thee from the blackened swamp-lands Took thee to his ancient smithy Placed thee in his fiery furnace Truly thou hadst little vigor Little strength, and little danger When thou in the fire wert hissing Rolling forth like seething water From the furnace of the smithy When thou gavest oath the strongest By the furnace, by the anvil By the rongs, and by the hammer By the dwelling of the blacksmith By the fire within the furnace Curses on thee, cruel iron Curses on the steel thou givest Curses on thee, tongue of evil Now forsooth thou hast grown mighty Thou canst rage in wildest fury Thou hast broken all thy pledges All thy solemn vows hast broken Like the dogs thou shamest honor Shamest both thyself and kindred Tained all with breath and evil Tell all who drove thee to this mischief Tell who taught thee thy malice Tell who gavest thee thine evil! Tell me! Now tell me! Did thy father, or thy mother Did the eldest of thy brothers Did the youngest of thy sisters Did the worst of all thy kindred [Give to thee thine evil nature?] Not thy father, nor thy mother Not the eldest of thy sisters Not the youngest of thy sisters Not the worst of all thy kindred But thyself hast done this mischief Thou the cause of all our trouble Come and view thine evil doings And amend this flood of damage Curses on thee, cruel iron Curses on the steel thou givest Curses on thee, tongue of evil Cursed be thy life forever!
04 Fields of Gold (04:34)
Long is the way we have come
Still, nothing changes under the sun
The day we lay ahold
The wind rocks the fields of gold
Zer sum is the name of the game?
Gain or lose
My win
Is your loss
Have your cake and eat it too
Long is the way we have come
Still nothing changes under the sun
Few have found the stone
Searching for the fields of gold
The finest of craftsmen forged
For day and night
Deep down
Lost at sea
Their great feat now lies
Is a draw the only win?
Would a tie double the loss?
A fight
For existence
Life-death: 0-0
Long is the way we have come
Still nothing changes under the sun
Firmly we keep our course
Fighting for fields of gold
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